“Come, daddy,” said Ann Veronica, following her husband and Miss Stanley; and in the fulness of her heart she gave a friendly squeeze to the parental arm. Mary Lucia was branded “the earliest riser and the best at keeping up with her chores” by the formidable Sisters at the orphanage. There was plenty of sweet water. It was still raining heavily, and profoundly dark. He was sipping a glass of cold gin and water, and smoking a short black pipe. It was debauching, this—a devilish art which drew such strange allurements from a face and figure almost Madonna-like in their simplicity. If he adhered to this policy—to keep away from her inconspicuously—she would forget the name by night, and to-morrow even the bearer of it would sink below the level of recollection. ‘Come inside at once, child. ’ ‘Damn you, answer me!’ Her eyes flashed. Only he hated the words he uttered, hated the blunt honesty which forced them from his lips.
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